White Shadows in a Grey World
by AdrienKrai
Summary: Where ash falls from the sky, true horrors and mysteries are abound.
1. Chapter 1

The world around was light with the clouded sun, the grey illuminating the ocean, creating a bland blur encompassing the boat. The vessel had scrawled letters upon its side: Χάρων, a name of which was odd, given the type of vessel it was, one which would carry people to and from the islands of Greece, neither merchant ship nor one for battle. It could barely be considered a ferry. The crew was less than interesting, all pale and of minority persons and those passengers aboard consisted of one person, a young woman of eighteen, who traversed the boat's upper deck with great interest. Her hair was raven and tied behind as the custom of the Greek society, her eyes sunken and deep with worldly knowledge but still held the qualities of youth. Her age, if unknown, was ambiguous due to her obvious youth yet had soulful eyes and manner. She could have been a thousand years old or sixteen.

She stepped across the wooden platform and stood at its edge, looking out upon the world. The fog was beginning to roll into the deck, layering a blanket of woolen clouds over the feet of the single passenger, but there was a heat that blisteringly sped through it, and into the faces that gathered at the ship's edge. It was an uncalming heat. A nervously unknown heat. The men that manned the vessel stood along side her in wonderment, for the island to which they sought was encompassed in the grey haze.

"What's that over Pompeii," a man called out.

"It looks like a grey mist has encompassed it," the girl spoke.

"Ephiness, you can't go there when the weather is such as this," the Captain spoke.

"I will board. If you do not want to venture forth, give me a boat, small in length for emergencies, and I will row there myself."

And he did so, without hesitance.

The crew members gathered to lower their single life boat into the slowly fogging waters. Waves caped at the sides and pushed it into the main vessel, allowing the girl to climb in. Ephiness stood upon the wooden planks of the lesser boat, holding the oar to which she rowed herself t the shore. Though the water waved at the wooden sides, her stance was unwavering and the boat did not rock. Had anyone seen her, they may have though her one of the goddesses of their religion. But as she reached the shore, though the thickening fog of white, she turned to see to where her bringer may leave. And there was nothing, save for a white blanket to coat the sky and sea.


	2. Chapter 2

On looking forward, the fog was clearer. Ephiness could see the outline of houses, buildings, roads paved as that of any normal city of Greece. But not a soul was to be seen. No person was there to explain what was occurring in their remote island threshold. No man walked. No child laughed. No voices could be heard. There was only

Silence…

Stepping down the road, the grey cobble stones crumbled beneath her feet. No birds sung in the sky and not a thing moved. The strangeness of the place was unparalleled, for with the unnerving silence, all was white and anything that could be seen was grey.

She walked into where she did not know, doors creaking in absence of persons within the homes, and the wind bringing that heat met upon the ship, accept, now it was a hotter, deeper, heat. From the sky fell little white particles, one would think were snowflakes and the girl reached out her hand to touch the snow, finding at the smear that it was ash. The mountain she knew was ahead, could not be seen, but she could only assume that it was the reason for this anomaly.

The only explanation for no one to be around was that everyone must have gone into hiding, to protect themselves from what onslaught the mountain may bring. Perhaps they had all evacuated the island, however, on recollection, Ephiness never saw a single ship leave the ports of Pompeii, nothing came out of the mist that began earlier that day.

It had been early in the morning that she had heard of the mist encompassing the island. Her slave, Anthea, had woken her with the news, saying that the island looked like it had been covered in the clouds, as if the heights of Olympus had come down upon them. At her words, Ephiness looked out the window and saw the oddity with her own eyes, captivated by the sickening beauty and horrendous deplorability.

With solemn voice, she reproached her slave's words, "Olympus had not descended upon Pompeii, Hades has risen up to it."

In little time, she dressed and made arrangements to venture to the island herself, coaxing nearby sailors to boat her there with a wealth of gold. It had not been her first time traversing seas or new land, for she was something of an eccentric to where she would go and live around the world with little to nothing to her advantage, living among the homeless, "backpacking" in a way for no reason other than her own.

What was it about this place though, that so hauntingly was vacant, and held the serenity of snow but the horror of ash. It was a beautiful monster. And why had Hephastis chosen now to unleash his wrath? But what was Euphonies to know of such things when told so little.

The land, vacant, was placid.

Crying…

The swift chill of a shrill cry burst into the air and broke the glass of silence. She turned her head to the sound and walked towards it, past and around some grey stones that puddled together to form homes. Around she went but the feeling was lost, that spark of sound was lost to the muddy haze of a substance that was not clouds.

Nothing lay in that courtyard of white stone.

But a door creaked from behind.

To where she looked, from behind that door were sullen eyes that gazed wonderingly.

"Hast thou come for our souls?"

The voice was thin, graveled and choked.

"Not yet," was the responding voice, "but tell me-" she approached the door and opened it slight to find no one there.

The hut of a house was absent of persons of any kind and yet a soft whisper fluttered in the air, inaudible. She turned franticly to find the giver of the voice, and her eyes met instead a mirror. The image reflected stood agape and came forward until its fingertips touched that of herself, and she saw. The skin was plastered with white, a crust or outer shell whose features were muddled and obscured. But the eyes, the eyes, they were as if not there, nonexistent, as if ripped from the body, they were unseen and hole of black were in place. She felt her face. Checked her eyes. She was fine, normal, herself.


	3. Chapter 3

The path forward was odd, unusual, and the place of the house, the small, insignificant hut, was shrouded in shadows that felt to alive to be only that of simple objects. But Ephiness walked forth nonetheless down the hall.

At the end of it, there were stairs which lead down, down, down into the musky earth to which she could only imagine was where they people of Pompeii may be hiding. She traversed every cobble step with care, the atmosphere reaching into her and pulling out every ounce of confidence which she had had previously, for the image she witnesses in the mirror. Unlike that of which she thought, there was no door to make a shelter down below, for she made it to the bottom of the stairs and into pitch blackness. Nothing could be seen save for the shards of light which barely made their way to laugh at her feet, mocking the now unfathomably unhinging predicament.

She stared off into that pitch. Into that darkness where dwelt unknown things, monsters of imagination, but she feared not death, being death itself.

She feared fear.

Crawling up her spine were fingers of cold, shivering her bones to the point where she was forced to race to the top of the stairs once more, to grasp the ever fading light.

She ran. She ran. Until her legs met solidity. She ran. And at the very top. The very top of the stairs. Before her. Her eyes. There were people. Children. Thousands surrounding her. Encased within ashen paster. Casts. Molds of Ash. White as the thick haze which surrounded that island. And they grabbed. The grabbed. And tore. Tore at her hair. At her face. At her eyes. She closed her eyes. She opened her eyes. The eyes of the people were gone. Amiss. No longer present. Just black holes. Black holes and skin which burned like the lowest ring of Tartarus' depths. Every hand. Every finger which touched her, burned. And they cried. They cried out. They moaned in agony. They plight could be felt by her. The pain was so known to her own flesh that she lay where she was. Writhing. Agony. She crawled. Back down. Down the stairs without any place to go. Her eyes now blind by what she did not know. Her hands did not balance her. She fell. Fast into that pit of unknown hell. Of fear and morning. She landed upon the hard clay ground. All light absent from the place. Not even those shards of light returned to her need.

She lay there… she held her eyes closed, so tightly and shut… and she listened to the sounds of those cries that still burdened her mind's voice… but if she actually listened for a moment… and for but a moment… she could hear that not a thing cried in the dusk any longer… there was but silence…. silence and dark….

Her eyes opened once more to the blackness of the world and looked about her, eyes adjusting to the complacent silence that flooded the room in a towering dark. It was if it were that silence which created that encompassing surrounding in the room. But she now could see faintly, every so faintly. Above, the ceiling, there were cracks, letting little threads of light hang down weakly. She turned, uncontrollably to her right and saw two figures. They did not speak or cry or moan, so she figured that these figures may be hiding from the monsters above aswell. And so she approached them.

"Hello?… are you friend?… I am so terribly frightened by this place… are you hiding," Ephiness questioned with considerable control and uncertainty.

There was no answer, but she continued to approach the figures.

As she came upon them, she saw that they were the skeletons of a parent holding their child. She gasped in fright of the putrid anomaly before her and backed away.

She turned.

There. There were the people. The children. The parents. The men. The women. The people. All encased. Standing there in frozen anguish. They did not move. They did not cry. They did not speak. They were as if statues in a garden. Statues of the souls of Hades. Dying and dead.

But they did not move.

She, though utterly grim through the circumstances, walked around them, through the crowd. Up the stairs. There were still more. Up and through the house, there were still people, frozen in time, in the snow of the mountain of Pompeii. Out and through the streets, there were the statues. the molds, the casings of people. Children. Mothers. Fathers. Lovers. Men. Women.

Frozen.


	4. Chapter 4

Out upon the beach, there were people. All running towards the water. In vain.

The fog still encased the place as Ephiness stepped into her shallow boat, in the still waters of the ocean.

Slowly, she made her way out upon the sea, the waves picking up, until she saw a boat approaching. It was a different boat than before, but held the same crew as she looked out to it.

She stopped her rowing, and stood there, waiting for the vessel to abroad her.

In those few moments, she heard the whispers in her ear.

"Hast thou not come for our souls?"

"No."

And the boat met the wooden planks of the oncoming vessel. She was lifted to the top. Met by the captain once more and stood upon the bow of the ship, looking out and back to the island so cursed by some unknown evil.

The ship rocked and turned in the waters until the met the port, busy, so ignorant to the happenings and uncaring of the island of Pompeii. She disembarked from the ship and walked calmly, expressionless from it and through the street.

As she walked, a man approached her, very similar in look, with hair just as dark.

"How was it," he asked of her.

"I could not stay there," she spoke gravely. "there are some things that I am not prepared for… you shall have to visit Pompeii, it is too much for me, things I have ne're even heard of before."

"Like what?"

"You shall have to see for yourself."

"Were there any survivors?"

"None that I could find. You shall have to complete this task, though I know it was my responsibility, I can't bring myself to return there."

"That is fine. I understand. It is not _your_ job, my dear."

"May I go home?"

"Of course, mother is there."

"Early?"

"Yes."

"Alright, I love you."

"I love you too."

"Good-bye father."


End file.
